Morph
by Naitachal666
Summary: GaaNej The night of the full moon is the calling card, it brings out everything to be feared in a man. Muscles rip, bones rearrange, and bloodlust enters his eyes. Taming this beast is more than Neji ever thought he'd have to do, but to save himself...
1. Chapter 1

ANOTHER new fanfiction! I really need to stop coming up with all these ideas. That, or get a muse...Hey, If you like this, check out some of my other stories. I bet you'll like those too. XD!

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Naruto or its characters. They are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Rippling, muscles tore and ripped beneath flesh as they rearranged themselves. Sick, wet pops happened as bones did the same. Dark red-hued fur receded as pale morning light peeked through a dusty window and cast a pale glow on the grubby wooden floor. Gasping and reeling, clawed fingers scrabbling across the floor, the creature let out a strangled cry as the sunlight hit his flank and sped up the process. A moment or two later, he lay panting on the floor, fully human once again.

He laid there for several minutes, gathering back the strength that had left him during the reverse transformation. Slowly, a hand reached up and groped at his head in hopes of dulling the pounding ache between his ears. The throbbing faded to a much more bearable ache, and the boy lifted himself from the floor. Unsurprisingly, he was as naked as the day he was born, and the cold gusts of wind coming in from where the back door was off its hinges chilled him to the bone.

Quickly brushing flakes of drying blood from around his mouth, he crossed the room and knelt beside a hatch in the floor boards. Beneath was a shallow storage space in which he had hidden his clothes. He pulled the garments out and put them on, careless as to how they were rumpled and dirty. A small mirror came out of the pocket of his long leather jacket, and he used spit and a finger to rub away the last of the blood. An eyeliner pencil made its appearance, circling his already dark eyelids with thick rims of kohl. He put the mirror and makeup pencil back in their pocket and sat down to put on worn black boots. The laces were ragged and caked with dried mud, making them hard to tie with cold-numbed fingers. Finally, he was ready to go.

He stood, shoulder length red spikes flaring fitfully in the gusts of cold air blasting into the small house. A last glance behind him to ensure he had left nothing, and he pushed the door aside to step out into the cold.

Air laden heavy with snow nearly barreled him over, but he crouched low to the ground and held his jacket tight to himself. It was only a short cut to the woods, which he could just barely make out between flurries of white. Setting his eyes on the dark line of trees looming ahead, he braced himself and set out straight out for the edge of the huge clearing. Once within the shelter of the tall trees, the wind died down to an occasional burst and the walking was much easier.

He picked his way through several dozen yards of vine wreathed trunks before stepping onto a narrow path created by the hooves of many deer over the years. Here, the walking was easy for one who had followed this path many times. Boots scuffed until the leather was green trampled fallen leaves into the soft dirt of the forest floor, making their way steadily along the trail towards a village several miles away. It was easy to say the lad knew these woods well, and well he might, for it was here in these woods that he hunted during the nights of the full moon.

Here, in this desolate woodlands where his malady could be expressed far from civilization and its people. What would they do, those people, if the discovered such a creature in their midst? It was a thought that young man had brought to attention many times. And worse, what would happen if he were to encounter a human on one of those nights? It was hard to control himself in any event during those times, much less just to keep himself from heading towards the village in that state. The scent of human blood seemed to make the beast more alive. To enter the city on those nights would be suicide. Not that he hadn't entertained _that_ thought before, either. It was part of the curse that werewolf and their were kin were hard to kill, excepting certain substances and circumstances. If it hadn't worked before he became cursed, there was an even less likely chance it would work now.

Sighing and shaking his blood red locks, he glanced up at the patches of sky he could see through the trees. Daunting, grey blanketed all that he could see. A blizzard was in the making, and it would be best if he were home before then. The boy quickened his pace, lean body easily adjusting to his new gait. A quick glance at the sky a moment later and he loosened into an all-out lope. He dashed the last stretch of forest between himself and the edge of the fields bordering the village. Then, he braced himself again and headed out into the snow. The wind had picked up, blowing this way and that and throwing snow in his face. Nose already red and cheeks numb, he ignored it and headed towards the main path into the village. He could tell the difference when his boots thumped on hard cobblestones beneath a covering of snow.

It was less than a minute later that he was stepping through the door of a small house off of a side street. He didn't even bother taking off his boots or shaking off his coat outside, which he knew his sister would pester him about, but instead headed straight down the short hallway and into his room. The door clicked shut softly behind him, but the silence was soon broken by the twin thumps as the teen unlaced and threw his boots in a corner of his room. His jacket landed over the back of a tall chair, and he collapsed on his bed to stare at the ceiling.

Too lazy to even change clothes, he rolled over onto his stomach and allowed himself to drift asleep for a few hours. He knew his sister would call him to breakfast or lunch when it was ready, depending on whether she decided to let him gain an extra two hours rest. His last thought was whether or not Temari would bother him, asking him where he had gone again, and whether or not, maybe this time, he should tell her the truth.


	2. Early Risers

Welcome to Chapter 2 of Morph. Oh, just to clear things up, Gaara is NOT a Werewolf. There are many different kinds of were kin, and I've taken liberty of that fact. Over the course of this story, you will meet many different kinds of were kin. Yeah, just clearing things up a bit. Mn. Were, capitalized, means Werewolf, whereas were, uncapitalized means any other kind of shifter/were kin.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Naruto or its characters. They are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.

Morph

Chapter 2: Early Risers

Blinking to clear the bleariness from his black rimmed jade eyes, the red haired young man rolled onto his back, knocking his blankets onto the floor. Glancing at the small window beside his bed, he saw nothing but a bleak whiteness that was the reason for the diffuse lighting in his room. Looking at the angry red readout of his alarm clock, Gaara realized that had slept through both breakfast and lunch. No matter. He hadn't really been hungry. But now, he was ravenous.

Tromping out of his room, the scent of roasted meat hit him full force in the face and Gaara had to stop for a moment to keep his hunger in check and wipe the drool that had gathered on his chin with a pale hand. It was a typical drawback faced by most kinds of were kin. An enhanced sense of smell, paired with the need for good meat had gotten many a were slain or found out over the years. Fortunately, Gaara had the good sense to keep himself in control whenever he smelt such mouthwatering aromas as those that drifted down the hall and into his nostrils.

It was no hard feat to use his nose to identify the heavy scent of buttered garlic mashed potatoes and the faint spice of Temari's homemade rolls. But topping it all with a sense of almost urgency was the godly aroma of pan fried lamb chops with crème de menthe cooked in. that was what drew him step by step into the dining room and into the presence of the rest of his family. Gaara nodded a greeting to his older brother Kankuro and sat in his place beside him on the right side of the rectangular oak table, knowing his sister would wish to sit across from them both.

Moments after his arrival, a tall young woman strode into the room wearing an apron and balancing two platters with her hands. With an ease that spoke of waiting for years in fancy restaurants, Temari lowered the hefty dishes onto the center of the table beside the fruit bowl and several steaming casserole dishes. Task done, she removed her apron and draped it over the back of her chair before seating herself and greeting her youngest brother. Gaara's only reply was a grunt before reaching for the bread roll basket and unwrapping the small towel that held their heat in. That was the cue for everyone to begin filling their plates and their bellies.

Talk was minimal and mostly between the two eldest siblings. Two young children had gotten lost in the blizzard that was still raging outside. TV reception was filled with static bursts and news reporters railed that the ferocity of the storm would remain unabated until early morning of the following day. Stay inside, keep windows closed. All common topics of the winter here in this small town tucked away in the shelter of two snowcapped mountains amongst the wooded hills. Here, in this town, the news was of weather and agriculture and quiet deaths. All events Gaara was content with.

The evening passed quickly with such small talk and soon the brothers were gathering plates and dishes and loading them into the dishwasher where they would be limned in a tomb of suds. The rapid, staccato beat of wind and ice against the windows was a background that blended seamlessly into the steady roar of the blizzard. It made a drowsy group of family seated on the couch and armchairs arranged around the crackling fireplace. Full stomachs and arms draped over the back of the couch were matched with contented sighs full of catlike satisfaction. This was how winter evenings should be spent.

Together, they lay in communal silence for almost an hour before Temari pulled out a book and Kankuro rose for bed. Gaara laid there for several minutes more before taking himself to his room to further relax in the cocoon of his burgundy covers.

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It was deathly silent outside, even to Gaara's sensitive ears. Quirking a hairless brow from under his blankets, he batted them away and sat up to stare out his window at nothingness. Slowly, through squinting eyes, the nothingness resolved itself into a town and land blanketed in thick white snow. Everything was covered in it, to a depth just under his windowsill and extending for as far as he could see. Trees were laden with it and roads were gone beneath it. Light from the grey and still broody sky reflected from the sheet of white and glared into the eyes of those few up early enough to view its splendor.

Pressing his hands to the window, Gaara blew his warm breath on the glass and watched the condensation of moisture cloud his vision through the window. Closing his eyes, he laid his cheek to the moist pane and rested against it for several long moments until the flesh there had grown numb with the cold. Moving to another spot on the glass, he blew on it and repeated his strange ritual with the other cheek. Cheeks numb but burning, the cold against the skin was refreshing and shocking all at the same time. Pressing his warm fingers to his reddened cheekbone, the redhead could feel the cold slowly leaching out of his skin as heat replaced it.

Gaara loved the wintry months, reveled in them in fact. Waking up to a frozen winter's morning invigorated him and steered his thoughts away from his malady. Mornings like these helped him remember those things he treasured in life. Steaming mugs of apple cider on a table underneath burning candles with hanging stockings over the mantle and the scent of freshly broken pine needles from a Christmas tree was something to look forward to, as well as nights as fine as last night. Not counting a few things now impossible since becoming were kin, Gaara had everything he had ever wanted in life.

Pulling away from the frosted glass panes with reluctance, the flush cheeked redhead crawled to the foot of his bed and dangled his feet over the floor before standing and making a beeline for the closet. It was more than past the time he needed a bath, and if he appeared in the kitchen any less than perfectly clean, Temari was going to throw a fit. Hence, his bare feet padded across the wood floor and halfway down the hallway and into a room with cold blue tiled floors. Clothing dropped to the floor in a careless manner and feet moved to step into the sliding door shower. Drops of water came down in a rush, and soon the room was enveloped in a heavy white mist.

Minutes later, the door opened again and Gaara stepped out, taut muscles glimmering with droplets of water that gathered what pale light came from the small window and the light fixture. Idly, a hand reached down and scratched at red curls as the other reached for a fluffy white towel that was folded on the toilet seat. A sigh from above, and Gaara began drying himself. Dropping the towel to the floor halfway through that task, he grabbed the clean pair of boxers he had brought and pulled them on, and then the jeans over those. Taking his shirt and the towel in hand, he strode out of the bathroom and back to his room. Dropping the shirt to the floor, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a heavier made one to slip over his head. That done, he went on an extensive search through all the litter on top of his dresser. Frustrated, every time Gaara came across a crumpled piece of paper or a candy wrapper, he actually took the time to put it in the neglected wastebasket in the corner. Finally, with a small cry of triumph, the redhead held up a single tiny eyeliner pencil. His last.

Offhandedly thinking about taking a trip to the mall, he uncapped the pencil and stood in front of a small make-up mirror on his desk. Carefully, with long, practiced strokes he colored in a thick ring around each of his eyes, stopping to sharpen the pencil a few times as he did so. With one last flourish, he put the cap back on the stub and stared at it for a moment. Tilting his head to the side and puffing at the hair that straggled across his face, Gaara shrugged and threw the pencil in with the rest of the junk in his wastebasket. It wouldn't last another day.

Grabbing the towel and making it into a sort of turban on his head, he headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. No dishes were in the sink, which meant that Gaara was the first one up and out of bed today. Which also meant that he had to cook breakfast. That is, if there was anything left in the fridge. There wasn't. Glaring at the empty egg carton in his hand, Gaara threw it in the trash and walked into the living room to get a fleece jacket to wear under his trench coat, which he then retrieved from his room. Opening the door, a blast of cold air hit him in the face and instantly froze him where he stood.

Taking a moment to adjust to the weather and to close the door, Gaara glanced from side to side and rubbed at his nipples under their fleeting protection of fleece and leather.

"Hmm…It's a bit…nipply out here."

-----------------------------ELSEWHERE--------------------------

Twenty-five year old Hyuuga Neji was bored. Today was one of his days off and there was absolutely nothing for him to do at the Hyuuga Estate. He had sparred with both his uncle and his best friend in the dojo last night and was in no mood for a repeat session today. Glancing out his balcony doors, he considered going outside for a walk. The storm last night had been a big one and there were several feet of snow on the ground this morning. However, it was early enough and cold enough that very few people would be out, and that decided him.

Grabbing a white faux fur coat from a peg on the wall and donning a pair of old leather boots that had seen better days, the long haired brunet slipped quietly out of his room and ghosted down the spiral stairs into the main anteroom. It was a short jaunt from there to the main entry doors to this wing of the estate, and from there to the great iron gates that protected it. Passing the gate guards and giving each man a detached nod, Neji stepped off of the carefully shoveled path and into a thick layer of snow over the roadway. In another hour, a snow plow would be by to clear the way, but until then, he would have to make do.

Stepping carefully for fear of ice patches lurking under the snow, Neji puffed clouds of warm air into the atmosphere as he walked unerringly towards the mall. Reaching it shortly thereafter, he nearly floundered in a small drift that had gathered up over the edge of the side walk. This early, the mall was just coming to life, stores having opened only minutes before he arrived and very few patrons actually there yet to shop. Shaking the snow accumulated on his boots off on the mat, he stepped into the coolly smooth tiled expanse of the Konoha Mall. Walden's Books was always the first store Neji went to whenever he came to the mall, and not to break tradition, that was where he headed now. Going immediately to the new releases with an eager gleam in his pale eyes, he began browsing through them. There were two books that he had been waiting nearly a month for, and he was quite glad to see that they were finally out. Neji entered the bulk of the store on his quest for just a few more tomes. Starting with the fiction and fantasy, he moved on over to the histories and horrors, and even tendered a quick look through the romance section. After almost an hour of browsing up and down aisles and flipping through particular interests, Neji finally took his prize selections to the counter and charged the price of the six hardbound books to his credit card. Giving his thanks to the cashier, he exited the store with a near smile on his face.

He made one quick stop at the Zaire's, just having to purchase a stunning gold watch that had caught his eye when he was on his way into the bookstore. It really was an admirable piece of jewelry, even if gold wasn't his usual fare. Truthfully, the Hyuuga preferred silver and bought most of his jewelry to that effect, but an occasional piece of gold shouldn't be overlooked simply because of its metal's mettle. Staring appreciatively at his latest acquisition, Neji strapped the watch on then and there, the better to feel it against his smooth skin. The weight of it was surprisingly cool and satisfying, like it was something he had already been wearing and had only taken off for a moment or two, rather than something just bought. Brushing his hair back, he admired the way it shifted on his wrist as he contemplated what he should do next. There were only a handful or so more places he had any reason to go to, so he briskly turned down the left wing of the mall, wondering if maybe there were a few articles of clothing down the way that might interest him. It wasn't always bad to spend a little bit of money on one's self. Turning to the side hurriedly, he barely missed running into a young Goth and narrowly avoided a run-in with a trashcan. Gripping tightly to the rail that was the only reason he was still standing, Neji snapped his head in the direction of his victimizer and opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going, freak!" It was unprecedented, Neji knew, but he was just shaken enough to let his sharp tongue off of its leash for a rare moment.

The other slowed his steps for only a moment, his coattails swirling as he turned just long enough to send a jaded green glare at Neji before striding away without a further bit of notice. Glaring at the boy's receding back, Neji righted himself and picked up the plastic bag with his purchases in it. Day having now been royally spoiled, he decided a trip to the candy store for a rare treat might improve his mood.


	3. AN: New Chap Coming Soon!

A/N: Going to be updating this in the next two days, hopefully! So, I suggest you go back and read the first two chapters in order to remind yourself about what the hell is happening in this story that you don't remember adding to your alerts.

Oh man, life is a fucking thrill.

Here's something for anyone who wants something to read, even if its not a fic or sample thereof:

There are a lot of things you learn in life as you grow older, and although we may not necessarily feel that growth, it is there. As a teenager you learn one thing, but once the realities of the real world finally strike you, you become an adult and realize another. You learn that sex, in real life, is nowhere near as glorified as it is in the stories that you read, and that holding a relationship together is something that sometimes seems barely worth the trouble. You learn new skills, and most learn that if they do not do something in order to make a living, the living may not be so great as they thought. You learn that what you want now may not be what you can do now, but maybe if you do other things, you might be able to do it later. You learn that the five dollars you had in your pocket as a child has a completely different meaning than the five dollars you have in your pocket as an adult; rather than buying a few bags of candy or a toy, you can buy a months supply of Ramen noodles so you can eat lunch at college, rather than starve. All these things are just hints of the things that you learn as you grow up and grow older, and in no way are they all great and wonderful things, but they are GROWTH. What you remember when you die, when your life flashes before your eyes, will it let you know that it has all been worthwhile? That the average of everything you have done so far can let you be at peace with yourself when that time comes? I hope so. The most we can do is try not to do anything stupid, but of course, we still will. Then, we can only hope to learn from our mistakes.

This has been a real-life thinking announcement by Naitachal666.


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